We may never know the order in which these songs were written – and Mark has gone on record as saying it isn’t a concept album – but there is definitely a gradation of tension as it progresses. By the time you get to sixth track, JOY, the softness of the initial approach has begun to splinter into something more abrasive, as Mark spits, ‘Come call me erasable’. This is no obvious angsty outpouring, though, with the presence of a lone trumpet amid the squall creating a sense of uneasiness, as if the blast itself were prompting some troubling suppressed memory.
It would be misleading to suggest the darkness of the album’s second half is explicitly expressed in the music, however. It’s more in the lyrics – ‘I can’t feel my skin’ laments Mark on the Jeff Buckley-tinged Take Me Home – and the drop in temperature they evoke that Black Foxxes turn to the dark side here, subtle moments of lightlessness that creep in and trap you.
Reiði is an album that’s as difficult to get the measure of at first as its title is to pronounce. But, like any journey worth taking, it’s one that rewards involvement and ceaseless exploration.
Words: James Hickie
Photo: Andy Ford
This review originally appeared in K!1713
Reiði is available via Spinefarm. Check it out on the stream below.